


Act my Age

by Fogfire



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 12:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16388105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fogfire/pseuds/Fogfire
Summary: Reader has worked on New Vulcan and is a pro when it comes to science. But when it comes to love, she has no clue. And her twin brother isn't helping at all.





	1. Chapter 1

“Seriously, Sis, what is in your bags? Rocks?”

“Just two,” you answer and laugh at the exaggerated expression of annoyance on his face, “Come on, Rocky, I want to check in my room and meet the science crew, before-”

“Nu-uh,” he disagrees, “Not just because you’re the Rocky in our Family, Missus Earthdigger, but also because you’re not gonna hole up with some science talk on shore leave.”

“Commander Spock asked to report to him-”

“On your first day of work, yes, which would be tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow, I don’t care. I’ve read your E-Mail.”

You hit his shoulder with your PADD.

“Don’t read my E-Mails, snooper!”

“Don’t use your birth date as a password then, you moron. And we’re twins. I’m allowed to read your stuff. I had to share mom’s womb with you.”

“You’re gross.”

He laughs and avoids another slap from you, catching your hand and pulling you with him into a turbo lift.

“It’s good to have you with me, you know,” he tells you when the doors of the lift closed and you’re alone.

You snort.

“You couldn’t have said that outside, right? Don’t let the girls notice that you have feelings…”

You tease him and he rolls his eyes at you.

“Fine. I’m not going to say anything to you anymore, you’ve done it now. And put your PADD away before I take it from you. You’re coming to the Engineering Party tonight.”

“But-”

“No but. You need to make some friends that are not robots. I will show you around and you will tell everyone how smart and talented I am. Especially to Mr. Scott. He’s my boss.”

“Oh yes, I heard of him, didn’t he come up with the Warp Equation?”

“Yes, yes,” your brother waves his hand in dismissal, “He’s great. Freakishly old and all, but still fit in his mind.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that,” you threaten him and it’s his turn to slap your shoulder.

“You do that and I tell everyone you’ve got the hots for Commander Spock.”

-

“Mr. Scott,” you can tell your brother likes his superior officer by his voice and his smile. Broad shoulders clad in a black leather jacket turn around and a man with wispy reddish hair and the typical shore leave beard in the same color looks at you with an eager smile.

Your heartbeat picks up and you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, feeling self-conscious under his interested gaze.

Spending time with your brother has given you the opportunity to meet all kinds of man. The lewd ones and the gentle, the funny ones and the shy, the boring ones and those who needed an audience at all times.

You sorted him into the category of gentle, even though he was surrounded by a group of people listening to his story and even more half empty bottles.

Gentle, because he looked at your face first, as if that was the only thing that mattered right now, before offering you his hand.

Your brother must have introduced you while you had zoned out if him nudging you was any indication and you took Mr. Scott’s hand with a nervous smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Scott,” you replied way to formally, your voice cracking a bit.

You could feel your brother tensing, sensing the unusual shift in your attitude.

Damn twin telepathy.

“Ach, Lass, it’s Scotty.”

You stuttered around the nickname, painfully aware that you were still holding his hand and pulling it back, calculating your timing in an attempt to assure yourself. Not too great, but not too bad either.

“I heard about the Warp Equation-” You squeaked, not wanting his attention to leave you while starting to feel flustered just by the way he looked at you.

The group around you groaned.

“Not the Warp Equation,” one tried to whisper but failed at keeping his voice down.

Scotty shot him a look and put on a smug grin that you wouldn’t have thought would suit him that well.

“Well, Lass, how much do you know about the Warp Drive?”

Your brother groaned and nudged you again.

“A bit, but I’d like to know more,” you pushed out and Scotty raised an eyebrow at you, fully grinning now.

“Well, if ye aren’t eager. Take a seat, I will teach you.”

-

You’re already up, dressed and halfway through your first cup of coffee when your brother barges into your room, unshaven, disheveled and half asleep.

“Oh good, you’re here,” he greets you, grabs your cup and drinks the rest of your coffee, “There is a girl sleeping in my quarters and I have to be in the engine room in half an hour,” he explains and walks into your bathroom as if it’s the only thing to do.

“Where else would I be?” You ask, but direct your question towards the empty coffee cup instead. You’re not sure if you want to hear the answer.

Not that your brother cares about that.

“The way you were mooning over Mr. Scott I’d say his quarters.”

You sputter in shock, thankful that you don’t have to worry about spitting coffee onto your uniform.

“Why? You! I didn’t-!”

“Sure you did.” He puts on a fake female voice that is squeaky and sounds more like a chipmunk than a healthy human being, but he gets the point across.

“Are you Mr. Warp Equation? Can you tell me more about the Warp Drive? You are so clever, Mr. Scott!”

You blush a furious red, unable to say anything in return. Had you really been that bad?

It doesn’t take your brother long to notice that you’re not responding and he ducks out of the small bathroom to look at you in surprise.

“You can’t be serious!” He yells when he realizes that his joke had hit home.

“I’m sorry!” You throw up your hands, “I’m sorry, it just… it came over me!”

“He’s old!”

“Not that old!”

“He could be your father!” He claims and you roll your eyes and groan, “Yes, if he had been at it at a very young age. I think the age difference is about fifteen years, but I’m-”

“Fifteen years?!” He shakes his head in shock, “I never would have thought that. I thought the guy was at least eighty!”

You groan again.

“He’s barely over forty, you absolute moon head! And nothing’s going to happen. I think he’s nice and attractive, that’s all there is.”

“It’s the beard,” your brother claims, his own face still only half shaven, “I know it. It makes the girls go wild. You only like him because of the beard, just like every girl seems to suddenly like me when I have one on shore leave.”

“Might be with him,” you try to weasel your way out of it, “But it’s definitely not the same with you. Girls like you all the time, you only notice it on shore leave because you’re married to your work the rest of your time.”

“It’s the beard,” he disagrees nonetheless, “I give you my word on that. He’s going to have to be shaved by now. Come by after work, take a look at his clean, unshaven baby face and feel disgusted by his old age.”

“I will tell him everything you said,” you threaten when he steps out of the bathroom again, shaved, hair combed sideways, aiming for your closet. How he knew that you had a spare set of his uniform in there was beyond your- oh, yes, twin telepathy.

“You do that, Sis, I tell Spock you have the hots for older, bearded man. Does his dad have a beard?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Seriously, Sis, what is in your bags? Rocks?”

“Just two,” you answer and laugh at the exaggerated expression of annoyance on his face, “Come on, Rocky, I want to check in my room and meet the science crew, before-”

“Nu-uh,” he disagrees, “Not just because you’re the Rocky in our Family, Missus Earthdigger, but also because you’re not gonna hole up with some science talk on shore leave.”

“Commander Spock asked to report to him-”

“On your first day of work, yes, which would be tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow, I don’t care. I’ve read your E-Mail.”

You hit his shoulder with your PADD.

“Don’t read my E-Mails, snooper!”

“Don’t use your birth date as a password then, you moron. And we’re twins. I’m allowed to read your stuff. I had to share mom’s womb with you.”

“You’re gross.”

He laughs and avoids another slap from you, catching your hand and pulling you with him into a turbo lift.

“It’s good to have you with me, you know,” he tells you when the doors of the lift closed and you’re alone.

You snort.

“You couldn’t have said that outside, right? Don’t let the girls notice that you have feelings…”

You tease him and he rolls his eyes at you.

“Fine. I’m not going to say anything to you anymore, you’ve done it now. And put your PADD away before I take it from you. You’re coming to the Engineering Party tonight.”

“But-”

“No but. You need to make some friends that are not robots. I will show you around and you will tell everyone how smart and talented I am. Especially to Mr. Scott. He’s my boss.”

“Oh yes, I heard of him, didn’t he come up with the Warp Equation?”

“Yes, yes,” your brother waves his hand in dismissal, “He’s great. Freakishly old and all, but still fit in his mind.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that,” you threaten him and it’s his turn to slap your shoulder.

“You do that and I tell everyone you’ve got the hots for Commander Spock.”

-

“Mr. Scott,” you can tell your brother likes his superior officer by his voice and his smile. Broad shoulders clad in a black leather jacket turn around and a man with wispy reddish hair and the typical shore leave beard in the same color looks at you with an eager smile.

Your heartbeat picks up and you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, feeling self-conscious under his interested gaze.

Spending time with your brother has given you the opportunity to meet all kinds of man. The lewd ones and the gentle, the funny ones and the shy, the boring ones and those who needed an audience at all times.

You sorted him into the category of gentle, even though he was surrounded by a group of people listening to his story and even more half empty bottles.

Gentle, because he looked at your face first, as if that was the only thing that mattered right now, before offering you his hand.

Your brother must have introduced you while you had zoned out if him nudging you was any indication and you took Mr. Scott’s hand with a nervous smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Scott,” you replied way to formally, your voice cracking a bit.

You could feel your brother tensing, sensing the unusual shift in your attitude.

Damn twin telepathy.

“Ach, Lass, it’s Scotty.”

You stuttered around the nickname, painfully aware that you were still holding his hand and pulling it back, calculating your timing in an attempt to assure yourself. Not too great, but not too bad either.

“I heard about the Warp Equation-” You squeaked, not wanting his attention to leave you while starting to feel flustered just by the way he looked at you.

The group around you groaned.

“Not the Warp Equation,” one tried to whisper but failed at keeping his voice down.

Scotty shot him a look and put on a smug grin that you wouldn’t have thought would suit him that well.

“Well, Lass, how much do you know about the Warp Drive?”

Your brother groaned and nudged you again.

“A bit, but I’d like to know more,” you pushed out and Scotty raised an eyebrow at you, fully grinning now.

“Well, if ye aren’t eager. Take a seat, I will teach you.”

-

You’re already up, dressed and halfway through your first cup of coffee when your brother barges into your room, unshaven, disheveled and half asleep.

“Oh good, you’re here,” he greets you, grabs your cup and drinks the rest of your coffee, “There is a girl sleeping in my quarters and I have to be in the engine room in half an hour,” he explains and walks into your bathroom as if it’s the only thing to do.

“Where else would I be?” You ask, but direct your question towards the empty coffee cup instead. You’re not sure if you want to hear the answer.

Not that your brother cares about that.

“The way you were mooning over Mr. Scott I’d say his quarters.”

You sputter in shock, thankful that you don’t have to worry about spitting coffee onto your uniform.

“Why? You! I didn’t-!”

“Sure you did.” He puts on a fake female voice that is squeaky and sounds more like a chipmunk than a healthy human being, but he gets the point across.

“Are you Mr. Warp Equation? Can you tell me more about the Warp Drive? You are so clever, Mr. Scott!”

You blush a furious red, unable to say anything in return. Had you really been that bad?

It doesn’t take your brother long to notice that you’re not responding and he ducks out of the small bathroom to look at you in surprise.

“You can’t be serious!” He yells when he realizes that his joke had hit home.

“I’m sorry!” You throw up your hands, “I’m sorry, it just… it came over me!”

“He’s old!”

“Not that old!”

“He could be your father!” He claims and you roll your eyes and groan, “Yes, if he had been at it at a very young age. I think the age difference is about fifteen years, but I’m-”

“Fifteen years?!” He shakes his head in shock, “I never would have thought that. I thought the guy was at least eighty!”

You groan again.

“He’s barely over forty, you absolute moon head! And nothing’s going to happen. I think he’s nice and attractive, that’s all there is.”

“It’s the beard,” your brother claims, his own face still only half shaven, “I know it. It makes the girls go wild. You only like him because of the beard, just like every girl seems to suddenly like me when I have one on shore leave.”

“Might be with him,” you try to weasel your way out of it, “But it’s definitely not the same with you. Girls like you all the time, you only notice it on shore leave because you’re married to your work the rest of your time.”

“It’s the beard,” he disagrees nonetheless, “I give you my word on that. He’s going to have to be shaved by now. Come by after work, take a look at his clean, unshaven baby face and feel disgusted by his old age.”

“I will tell him everything you said,” you threaten when he steps out of the bathroom again, shaved, hair combed sideways, aiming for your closet. How he knew that you had a spare set of his uniform in there was beyond your- oh, yes, twin telepathy.

“You do that, Sis, I tell Spock you have the hots for older, bearded man. Does his dad have a beard?”


	3. Chapter 3

“This is just a crush…” You tell yourself and only realize you’ve actually whispered it when Scotty cocks his head to the side in confusion. 

“What?”

“Oh, I- Are you in a rush?”

He smiles in understanding and you push out a shaky breath, forcing you to look away from him when he steps into the Turbo Lift. The room has never felt so small and intimate to you. If you’d just as much as move your arm a bit, you’d touch him.

“Not more than usual. Yer brother commed me, said ye’re probably looking for me? Anything I can help ya with?”

You swallow thickly to get rid of the curse word that’s trying to slip of your tongue and force yourself to look back at him.

His eyes are a bit blue and a bit brown and your mind tries to get lost in the question which color is more prominent.

“The Replicator… in Lab 3…” you choke out, still desperate to find a way to talk less like a fool and more like the woman that has proven herself already.

“Ach, yes, I forgot about tha’,” he pulls a face that can only be described as sheepish. You feel your cheeks grow hot again, “Donnae tell Spock, though, I will try to squeeze it in this week.”

Your tongue is dry, your brain empty, while he looks at you, waiting patiently for your reaction. If you say yes, you manage to contemplate, your conversation will be over. There will be nothing for you to say to him when you meet him in the hallways, no reason for him to talk to you.

There is a solution, you tell yourself, you already know it, you just have to remember it.

And just like that, you remember yourself speaking the words that you need to find a way to prolong this conversation.

However, I do not think that taking the matter into my own hands will be illogical. I will wait patiently when I am sure that there is nothing I can do myself.

Right.

You clear your throat.

“I am more of a ‘do it yourself, if you can’-kind of person,” you explain him, trying not to cringe at the way how your voice sounds, “Maybe you could show me how to do the repairs myself?”

First, he looks surprised. Then he smiles so bright, his eyes start to crinkle and damn your heart that decides to beat so loud it drowns out everything else.

He says something, but you can only hear your own heartbeat in your burning hot ears, can only stare at his lips moving and wonder- wait, did he ask you something?

“Yes?” You croak out helplessly and he grins broadly, claps, yes, claps your shoulder and steps out of the Turbo Lift that must have opened without notice.

You have absolutely no idea what you just agreed to.

If you had known that a crush could feel that way, you would have listened to the Vulcan philosophers a bit more often… maybe. But probably not.

-

Your PADD beeps with a message the moment you step into Lab 3. You look at the monitor, read the name of the one who sent the message and fight to stay calm. Commander Spock is standing just a few desks away and Vulcan hearing is not to be underestimated.

M. Scott: My timetable is rather free this evening. I will meet you in Lab 3 half an hour after Gamma Shift starts.

You try not to overthink answering this message that has to mean a hundred things more than you have in mind and force yourself to use the command that will send him a standard message of approval. It was programmed to save time during emergencies.

And this is an emergency, at least to you.

“Commander Spock,” you decide to address him before he speaks up first, “I have spoken to Mr. Scott. He is willing to bump the Replicator up on the list of repairs.”

You deliberately leave out the fact that the Replicator hadn’t been on the list anymore, due to Mr. Scott forgetting it. It’s not necessary for anyone to know. And the thought of having a little secret to keep for the man leaves a childish giddiness in you.

Spock quirks an eyebrow. “May I inquire on how you achieved that?”

“By asking nicely.” You smile and decide to leave it at that when the door behind you opens and your coworkers saunter in.

“Fascinating,” you hear him mumble under his breath.

Fifteen minutes into your shift Commander Spock walks over to your desk.

“I have noticed a lack of focus. I have to meet up with the Captain in ten minutes and fear that the moment I leave you will be asked questions again. Would you feel comfortable with me announcing a gathering for this evening instead?”

Your face turns hot and you have to take a deep breath before speaking, to get the words out right.

“I am afraid I am not open for this tonight, as Mr. Scott has asked me to stay behind. I assume he wants to lecture me on repairs and maintenance of the Replicator.”

You are sure that he notices your voice shaking the tiniest bit when you speak.

He looks at you for a moment, choosing his words as careful as Prime Spock used to do.

“If you feel uncomfortable with Mr. Scott around, I am sure that one of the other crew members can fill in for you.”

Oh if only that would work, you think and force yourself to smile.

“It would be illogical,” you tell him, licking your lips and thanking your brain for working out this argument on the spot, “Not only have I an engineering background thanks to my family and will spare Mr. Scott a lot of time explaining, but also does the whole Crew have to function as a whole, comfortable or not.” You look at the desk and up to him again. “Eik-veshtaya to'ovau kau - lu veshtaya ri glazhau goh na'kastorilaya t'kashan,” you say, the vulcan words feeling entirely different on your tongue than Standard ever could. A bit like a home your brother will never get to know. Wide experience increases wisdom, provided the experience is not sought purely for the stimulation of sensation.

He nods in understanding, before answering. His voice drops just the faintest bit when he talks in Vulcan and you wonder, just for the faintest moment, why you couldn’t just have fallen in love with a Vulcan when you had the chance.

“Ri vath kau eh ri vath rok nam-tor na'etek hi etek kau-tor.”

There is no other wisdom and no other hope for us but that we grow wise.

You smile at him and he quirks an eyebrow back at you. “I will announce a gathering for tomorrow evening then, Lieutenant?”

“It would be my pleasure, Sir.”

You stay behind when Beta Shift ends. Commander Spock had not returned from the Bridge, only sent you a message on the PADD, asking for confirmation that work was well underway. His announcement had lead to an afternoon spent with working and now all you had to do was wait for Mr. Scott to arrive.

Gamma shift at the science labs wasn’t nearly as full as it would be down in the engine rooms. One woman clad in a blue shirt had slipped in to retrieve a test tube, mumbling something akin to a greeting towards you before leaving again.

Your PADD beeped with a message from your brother, asking if you could meet him in Mess Hall for Dinner.

“Can’t. Have to stay behind because the Replicator is getting repaired.”

He called you and you declined.

“Not now,” you write him instead, “I’m trying to work.”

“Spoilsport.”

With another fifteen minutes to wait you decide to do the easy work that never gets done: filing, sorting and essentially tidying up.

It’s usually a boring work, one that the Ensigns get to do, but it keeps your mind of off the things you try not to think about and it gives you insight on what is going on.

Everything is peacefully quiet until a warm voice pulls you out of your focus.

“Hard work, Lass?”

Your head snaps up and you stare at Mr. Scott in shock.

“What?” You squeak like a mouse and bite your tongue by accident, tears welling up in your eyes from the pain.

“Shit, sorry, I dinnae want to scare ye, ye were so focused…”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, forcing yourself to look down at the desk to be able to calm down, “I just didn’t hear the door. Didn’t notice I wasn’t alone anymore.”

“Hard work then?” He asks. It’s easier to listen to him when you’re not looking at him at the same time. His voice sounds soft and warm, makes you feel as if you’d just drank a cup of tea.

“Quite the contrary. It’s the easy work that no one has the time to do. But someone has to do it.”

“Oh, well, ye’ve got the right mindset then, Lass, jus’ like ye brother. Hard work will get you everywhere.”

You furrow your brow in confusion. Doesn’t he know that you’re working as the right hand of Commander Spock? Maybe you understood him wrong, but it sounded as if he implied you’re still trying to earn your colors in science.

You don’t want him to think you’re still a newbie, but you don’t want to be a show-off either.

Instead, you clear your throat.

“So… you’re here now, what are we going to do?”

The tiny part of you that likes to stay in and watch romantic movies wishes for him to say something entirely else than he does.

“Well, show me what causes ye problems. Faulty replicators are quite easy to handle, ye will understand them in no time, I’m sure.”

“Right,” you step forward and walk over to the Replicator, hiding your face and your disappointment, “This way.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Well, this is a torque wrench,” Mr. Scott explains to you, holding the tool out for you to see, before showing you how he is using it on the Replicator, “Ye will need torque pieces for that, and they have ta fit.”

You nod and try to make a face that looks at least mildly interested. There is a reason why you’re the only one in your family who’s not crazy good at engineering.

After losing your focus one too many times because you happened to look at Mr. Scott’s face, you keep your gaze fixated at the Replicator instead. It helps, but only as long as he takes to explain everything. Then he stops and grabs your left hand, dropping the torque wrench in it.

Your head snaps up and you make the mistake to look at him, right when he smiles at you cheekily.

“Yer turn, Lass, I’ll show you how.”

And as if that smile and his closeness weren’t enough, he takes your hand in his and pulls your arm forward, showing you this way what you have to do and how.

Your mind is empty, your heart is attempting to sprint and your mouth is dry. Every time the rough skin of his hand moves across your own, you feel it, the tingles running up your arm and down your back until you’re shivering.

This is definitely not normal and if your heart doesn’t get back to its usual pace, you will surely die of a heart attack tonight.

Then he lets go of your hand and you motion towards the Replicator, telling you to go on.

Your hands are still shaking, but you manage to do the repairs he’s instructed you to do.

“That was great,” he claps your back again, “Ye’ve got talent. Now I’m showing ye the maintenance protocol. Next time it’s trying to spit coffee on ye, ye know what to do.”

You nod and get up, ignoring his outstretched hand in favor of your fragile heart.

He runs you through the protocol, putting emphasis on the most important parts of it and asks you to repeat it for him.

He smiles again and the corners of your mouth turn upwards on their own accord.

“It was a pleasure teaching you,” Mr. Scott takes your hand again and shakes it and you feel dizzy again as you nod, “It’s a pity ye’re in the science department. Ye could be as good as ye brother in no time if ya let me teach ye.”

Your mind is still stuck on his first sentence, he’s talking to fast for your dizzy brain to catch up, let alone forming sentences on your own.

He looks around the lab before looking back at you, his blue-brown eyes twinkling with something you can’t really identify.

“It’s a shame that we’re losing a great engineer with ya, Lass. Well, if ye change ya mind, I’d love to teach ya. I loved working with ye brother and now he doesn’t need a lot of help anymore…”

“That would be nice,” you manage to get out, blinking rapidly as if that would get your head to clear, your brain to work faster. You’re not even sure if that sentence was grammatically correct, or if it fits into the conversation you’re holding up, but it was the politest answer you’re currently able to form.

Mr. Scott beams at you. You must have said something right then.

“Great. I knew ye would only need one lesson in engineering to be convinced. The tinkering is addicting, I know, I know. What do ye say, twice a week? I’ll come by in three days and explain ye the maintenance of yer other friends here.”

He gestures around the lab and you nod, not sure on what you agreed to know, but if it allows you to see him twice a week, you’re sold anyway.

“Great,” he claps your shoulder again, before looking down at his PADD, “Ach, I need to go, forgot I had to meet up with the Captain. See ye in a bit, Lass.”

He waves and leaves and you’re too stunned to wave back for another five minutes.

You stroll back to your quarters, your mind heavy with knowing you will quite possibly still act like a troll around him when you will see him again in three days, but… well, you will see him again in three days.

You bite your lip, punch in the code to your quarters and wait until the doors have closed behind you before you let out a squeal and slump back against the door, enjoying the feeling of utter, soul-crushing affection.

“Damn, what happened?”

You shriek and jump forward at the unexpected question, ready to fight whoever has seen you in that state. Your cheeks are ablaze and your heart is hammering again, but for an entirely different reason now.

Just a few feet across the room sits your brother and looks at you with wide, worried eyes.

“What happened?” He asks, “I was gonna come and get you in about fifteen minutes. Why are working overtime on your first day? Why are you so happy? No, don’t tell me. Spock gave you some weird slug to dissect and study?”

You shake your head and walk past him to get something comfortable to change into, but walk back when you realize he’s taking apart your Replicator.

“What are you doing?”

“Your coffee sucks. I have some tricks up my sleeve that will give you better coffee. I can’t drink that colored water when I come over.”

You’re just about to roll your eyes at him when you recognize the mechanism he’s working at.

“Be careful with the cartridges there or you will need to rewire.”

“Yeah, thanks, I’m not an idiot,” he snaps back, before freezing and turning his head to look at you.

“NO.”

“What?”

“No! No, you repaired the Replicator!”

“Yes, I did.”

“You repaired the Replicator and you squealed like Mom did every time Dad brought her flowers.”

“I didn’t-”

“You’re in love! You’re in love with Mr. Scott!”

“I’m just attracted to him, I-”

“You can’t just be attracted to Mr. Scott!” He’s full on rambling now, throwing his hands in the air in exaggerated gestures, “He’s too smart, kind and funny for that! He’s everyone’s friend, he’s a genius, he can drink more than grandpa in his best times! If you’re crushing on him now, with his beardless face and all, you’ll be in love with him in no time!”

“What is the problem with that?”

He stops, clearly not ready for a question like that, before grumbling something you can’t understand.

“I will get you a date tomorrow. Lieutenant Cee is still single.”

“You will not-”

“Don’t worry,” he waves his hands, “You go change, I fix the Replicator. I will think about a nice guy in the meantime.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, and you’re in love with Mr. Scott. You need better insults, Sis.”

-

“You’re still here?” You ask when you find your brother on your couch in the morning.

“You didn’t come back out and I didn’t want to leave you here alone in case you wanted to talk about it.

“You could have knocked?” You question him while choosing a cup of coffee from the Replicator.

“Why would I? You would have come out to me if you wanted to talk.”

You sigh, take a sip of your coffee and sigh again, but this time because the coffee is exactly what you need.

“You’re still an idiot.”

He laughs and gets up from the couch, steps over to you and takes the cup from your hands to take a sip. With a smile, he hands it back to you.

“But I make good coffee.”

“Fine, you do.”

“Can I tell Gray then that he can ask you out?”

You send him a look instead of a few chosen curse words.

“Come on,” he nudges your knee with his, not breaking the eye-contact, “The way you squealed yesterday, the fact that you’re not already thanking me on your knees for sending Mr. Scott your way… You said you were merely attracted to him, but your reaction shows that there’s a lot more.”

You try to look away, but you’ve already been caught.

“Maybe,” you mumble back and he nudges you again, his smile softer now.

“Could it be that you’re nervous?”

“Maybe.”

“Going out with someone else will make you feel less nervous.”

“Why? That’s not logic-”

“Shh,” he holds up a hand to shush you, “I don’t want to hear the nasty word. Trust me, Sis, Gray is a nice guy. You’re going to have a bit fun with him, learn how to talk to guys that don’t have a stick up their ass at all times and be less nervous when you have to talk to Mr. Scott next time.”

“So you’re helping me get him?”

“Hell no, but I can’t let your brain turn to mushy nonsense just because of a crush…”


	5. Chapter 5

You aim to lose yourself in your studies, at least for the day and somehow, your coworkers seem to notice. No one bothers you with questions, not even Commander Spock demands your attention and you work and work until your shift ends and P-tra has to come and get you for the gathering. You haven’t prepared anything and for a moment you feel self-conscious, but P-tra is smiling brightly at you from the front of the small crowd, eager to get the first question. You smile back and the questioning begins.

After almost two hours of talking, Commander Spock steps in and calls an end to it.

You’re tired, but in a good way, as if all the anxiety has been drained from you.

When your stomach growls, you finally notice how hungry you are and decide to head towards Mess Hall. You haven’t gone far when a redshirt falls into step beside you.

“Hi,” he greets you, stretching out his hand for you to hold, “I’m Lieutenant Cee.”

“Oh,” you stop and take his hand, shaking it, “I’m Y/N.”

He towers over you with his height, but his smile is warm and big, reaches up into his reddish-brown eyes. His skin is brown, a color you have started to miss on New Vulcan.

His smile broadens a bit. “You’re wondering how my name and appearance fit together.”

“A bit. Do you get that often?”

“I do.” He lets go of your hand and gestures ahead, “Want me to tell you the story while we walk towards Mess Hall? Your brother asked me to make sure you eat something.”

“He’s a bit on the protective side,” you joke and start walking again. Gray chuckles.

“So, the story?”

“Well, my family is from India, but my father has some European descent. We don’t really know where he is from, exactly, but I’m named after my grandfather.”

“A good man?”

“A very good man,” Gray answers and smiles again, “I hope I can live up to it someday.”

“And you got your mother’s looks?” You ask because it’s a topic you’ve always been interested in and one he’s obviously not afraid to talk about.

“Yes. I look like Tata. My other grandfather. My younger brother Hrithik is named after him, but he got Grandpa Gray’s looks. It’s a pretty interesting mix, my family.”

“I bet. Genetics is an interesting topic.”

“Didn’t you write a paper about it?” Gray asks and stops in front of the door leading to Mess Hall so you can step in first. A Gentleman, it seems.

“Yes, I did. Did my brother tell you?” You ask, taking a quick look to make sure Mr. Scott is not around. You don’t want to bump into him on this date that doesn’t feel like a date but could be one all the same.

“No, my mother. She recognized your last name. She’s teaching Xenobiology at the Starfleet Academy in Mumbai. You might know her, Admiral Cee is pretty well known..”

“Yes, I know her. And with a mother like her, you decided to become an Engineer instead?” You joke and he smiles at you again. You can easily understand why your brother is friends with Gray and why he thought the man would be a good choice for a date.

“Well, we can’t all go into Science. Who would repair the Replicators then?” He jokes back and you feel yourself blush.

It’s easy to talk to Gray. He is kind and funny and at the time you’ve finished your meal you’ve already talked about a variety of topics, from your thoughts on the shaky peace the Federation has with the Klingons to which planet is the best place for a camping adventure.

He’s attractive, too, you’ve noticed that, but looking at his warm eyes doesn’t make your heart race, or your mouth run dry with nervousness.

Maybe that is what you need, what your brother thinks you need, at least. Someone that won’t make your heart race, your hands sweaty, your mind empty. Or maybe the years on New Vulcan really have changed you, made you forget how to talk to a human man after all. Who knows? You don’t.

“Thank you for this evening,” you say when he walks you back to your room. You had opted to tell him that you would find back just fine, but you had not wanted to say goodbye in the middle of a busy hallway. He smiles, one corner of his mouth lifting a little bit higher than the other.

“It was really nice,” he answers, “Glad your brother sent me to look after you.”

“Yes,” you nod, feeling the conversation steer into awkwardness, “Thank you for doing that, by the way. You didn’t have to. It was nice, though, and maybe… we will see each other around?”

“It’s a big ship…” He starts and you bite your tongue, try to swallow the fear down, fear of something you can’t even name.

“Yes, but, well, you’re best friends with my brother, who is, kind of, related to me, you know? And I know your mother, who is, well, your mother and I-” You hear yourself rambling and see him smiling and you wish you could just stop yourself from talking.

“I will see you again, then,” he cuts you off and you’re thankful for it, “Good night.”

“Good night,” you breath and hold out your hand for him to shake, the years on New Vulcan leaving you with a feeling of dread while doing so because he’s not meant to shake your hand.

“Good night.”

He turns to leave and you slip into your quarters before he can turn around for one last look, sinking against the closed doors with a sigh. You’re so glad you’re alone again.

This time, you’re not even surprised to find your brother sitting on your couch when you open your eyes.

He looks at you with a smile that threatens to split his face apart.

“How did it go?”

“Gray is nice,” you say slowly and think of a way to voice your feelings without making Gray sound less the great man that he is or making you sound like your head over heels in love with him when you’re not.

Your brothers face falls immediately.

“But-” He says and you cut him off.

“No but. I mean it. Besides, is it really a good idea to wait in my own room when I’m supposed to be dating? What would you have done if we had hit it off and stumbled into my room while making out?”

Your brother makes a face. “I know you’re not like that. And if you would, I would…”

“What?” You ask…

“Let’s just not talk about a scenario like that.”

-

The most comforting thing right now? No matter how much you toss and turn in your bed or try to get something out of your twirling thoughts, days and nights end and start anew.

“You look tired,” P-tra greets you when you step into Lab 3 the next morning.

“I am,” you answer and take another sip from the cup of coffee you had to smuggle out from your quarters under the watchful gaze of your brother. It would have been easier to replicate the coffee in the Lab itself, but then again - your own Replicator makes way better coffee now.

“Date night?” She asks with a wink and you choke on your coffee.

“I didn’t… We didn’t… It didn’t mean…” You stutter and P-tra laughs loudly, clapping you on the back.

“Doesn’t matter what it was and what you did. I just saw you with Gray yesterday. He’s a nice guy.”

“He is, but I’m…”

“Not interested?” P-tra smiles and nods, “It’s not easy to be not interested on this ship, I can tell you.”

She looks at the door, whistles an easy tune and steps away from you and towards her work place, when the door opens and Commander Spock steps through, looking over the Lab, eyes focusing on you.

“Lieutenant. We did not have time to go over your process yesterday.”

Right. Work.

“Indeed. If you’ll follow me,” you direct him towards your desk. Working will help you forget how tired you are.

-

“So what’s the deal, exactly?” P-tra asks when you’re sitting on one of the tables at the far end of Mess Hall, “I don’t want to be nosy, but I feel like you might need some female perspective on things.”

You heave a sigh. “I’m not sure. There’s someone I really like, but I’m not sure if it’s just an enormous crush coupled with being nervous. And Gray is really easy to talk to and I could probably grow to feel more for him, but-”

“A relationship shouldn’t be funded on the word but,” P-tra disagrees with a click of your tongue. Her warm eyes are looking over you and you dig your fork into your salad, trying to distract you from your thoughts.

“The way I see it, you should talk to Lieutenant Uhura.”

“What? Why?” You sputter, glad that you had not taken a bite yet.

“Because the way you’re acting, you’re almost half Vulcan and Lieutenant Uhura is successfully dating a half Vulcan. If anyone knows who you’d be better suited with, it’s her, right?”

“I think I’ll stick to my brother’s advice instead,” you disagree, “To other species, Vulcan’s might seem very alike, but they aren’t. And just because the Lieutenant is in a relationship with one won’t make her an expert on my behalf. It is, therefore, logical to seek out the advice of people who know me, instead.”

“That sounds awful,” a voice rumbles behind you and you freeze, your neck stiff.

P-tra looks at you with worried eyes and when you manage to turn your head to your left, it actually hurts from how tense you are.

Mr. Scott is smiling down at you and your heart is in your throat again.

“What do ye need advice in, lass? Can I help?”

“I,” you joke, swallowing dry, “I wanted to ask my brother, because…” Your voice breaks a bit and you clear your throat again, while Mr. Scott looks more interested than you wish him to be.

“Your brother?” He tries to help you out, “Is it about engineering?”

“Yes,” you croak out, glad for the straw he’s holding out for you, “About the training,” you say and he nods, about to say something, when he notices someone waving at him from across Mess Hall.

“I will talk to him, if tha’ is okay with ye, lass,” he offers and you nod because you don’t know what else to do and watch him walk away with a smile and a wave.

P-tra clears her throat and you turn around to her giving you a look that can only mean one thing.

“Please don’t laugh,” you beg, wishing you could just put your head on the table and disappear.

“Why would I laugh?” She asks, her voice calm, but her eyes are betraying her. Her eyes are saying that she wants to know a lot more.

“Because he’s so much older than me?”

“You’re what? In your mid-twenties? That’s not that much of an age difference, considering that your mind must be a lot older if you can survive Vulcan company.”

P-tra winks at you. “Yes, I just called you old.”

You throw your fork at her.


	6. Chapter 6

There are a few things you definitely hate. Not knowing what to do in a certain situation is one of them. You feel moody the whole afternoon. One of the Subcultures of Bacteria you’ve been working on cultivating has died during your lunch break, which forces you to write a Request for a new sample. It’s nothing big, just enough of a hassle to annoy you even more.

You’re about to start on another sample when you’re called to Lab 2. The Centrifuge needs to be calibrated for human blood samples and the one responsible for it occupies a bed in Med Bay.

You’ve just finished doing that when the door opens with a swish and the Ensign that was responsible for getting the Blood Samples from Med Bay to the Lab drops the tray right after stepping through. The boy can’t be older than seventeen. His first instinct after seeing the mess he’s made is starting to cry. Apparently, he’s too afraid to go back and report to Med Bay himself.

“Dr. McCoy will kill me!” He tells you, sobbing and you can’t really blame the doctor for that, but there’s still enough kindness left in you that you roll your eyes, tell him to clean up and go to report to Med Bay yourself.

You regret your decision two steps into Med Bay. The good Doctor is furious. He’s cursing, he’s spewing threats and he won’t let you get a word out yourself.

“HEY!” You yell when you have enough. He shuts up and eyes you, half mad, half curious.

“It’s just blood samples. Give me the stuff needed and I will do it myself if you think it’s such a hassle.”

“As if!” He growls, “I won’t let some scientist work with medical equipment.”

“Then you will have to do the work yourself,” you argue back, “I’m offering you my help. Either you take it or you get back to work. Letting your anger keep you from completing the task is highly illogical.”

He groans. “You sound like a green-blooded hobgoblin. Alright then, if you’re so eager to help.”

Ten minutes later you step out of Med Bay with a bag full of equipment and a list of people you have to take blood samples from. It doesn’t even surprise you that Doctor McCoy has given you the engineers to hunt down. You heave a sigh and decide to start with your brother. He might even be able to help you.

“Why do you have to do that?” Your brother gives you his wariest look and you roll your eyes at him.

“Because Ensign Mjarl dropped all the samples and I offered to help get new ones.”

“Why did you offer that? Why did they let you take the samples? You’re not a nurse.”

“Oh come on,” you grab his arm and pull him towards you before he can take yet another step back, “I know you’re scared of needles, but this is just ridiculous.”

“It’s not,” he claims, “Who knows what could go wrong! You could push air into my bloodstream and kill me.”

“You’re watching too many of those old crime shows Gramps kept around. Also, Dr. McCoy instructed me and there’s nothing that could go wrong.”

You take the blood sample and let go of your brother who steps back into safety yet again.

“You’ve been mean to me,” he pouts at you, “Now you owe me double.”

“Why would I owe you in the first place?”

“Because I set you up with Lieutenant Gray Cee, thank you very much. Come to think of it, you haven’t even thanked me yet.”

“Yeah, for a reason. Firstly I would have been just fine eating on my own and secondly…”

Your brother grunts. “I don’t think I wanna hear your ‘secondly’…”

You sigh and roll your shoulders, trying to get the tension out of them. Unsuccessfully.

“I’m not telling you then. Or ask for your advice. I already know what you’re going to tell me, anyway.”

You can tell that he doesn’t want to talk about it. Maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s the ever-present urge to continue working everyone in your family seems to suffer from. Whatever it is, you pack your things and climb through the Jefferies tubes to find the other people on the list.

“Gray?” You ask, a tight grip on the ladder you have to climb down to meet him.

He looks up from the Panel he was working. “Y/N? What brings you here?”

“I was foolish enough to offer my help to Dr. McCoy and got rewarded with the quest to hunt you all down.”

“Do I have to be scared?”

You jump down instead of answering, something you deemed to be clever, but there’s something lying on the floor you didn’t see from above. You trip, you fall and Gray catches you like they do in the movies. But your heart does not beat faster and you move to get out of his arms instead of leaning in for a kiss.

“Sorry,” you send him an awkward smile and grab the equipment you need, checking your PADD to give your shaky fingers one moment longer to calm down.

“Oh, you’re five years older than me,” you exclaim in surprise. He looks younger than he is.

“Just five years?” Gray asks back, his surprise just as big as yours, “I thought there was more. You look a lot younger than you are.”

You grimace at that and he notices. Of course, he does.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to offend you. I just thought… well, the way you wear your hair and you never wear make-up, I thought…”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt him, alienated by how nervous he suddenly seems to be, “You couldn’t know. How about I draw your blood so you can get back to work?”

“Absolutely,” he agrees almost hastily and you proceed.

-

There’s only one more to go. You’ve saved Mr. Scott for last. Not because you want to savor the time with him - even though you do - but… well, because you’re nervous. And painfully aware of the fact that you look even younger than you actually are. Which makes the age gap between you and Mr. Scott even more obvious.

You sigh, breach your shoulders and knock on the wall of the small cubicle he seems to call his office. One of the Ensigns has sent you and you can see the man sitting with his back to you.

Apparently, everyone just screams the Man’s name when they want him to hear. At least that’s the custom, according to the helpful Ensign. But not all Ensign’s can be easily trusted.

And it’s more polite to knock, but- “Ah!” Scotty’s voice interrupts you and you freeze in your spot, Hand still raised to knock once more if needed.

“What are ye doin’ here, Lass?”

“I,” you stutter, “I help Dr. McCoy. Someone dropped the blood samples already taken and I’m helping taking new ones.”

“You’re helping?” He gets up and walks over to you, the usual smile on your face.

“Yes,” you manage to croak out. You’re still so very nervous, but now there’s a new edge to all of this. You wonder how you must look in his eyes. How old does he think you are. Has he noticed your nervousness? Does he think you’re crushing on him? Like a little girl or like a grown woman? What-

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“But you’re not getting trained by Dr. McCoy, right?” He asks, concern on his face.

What, you think, utterly confused now. What is he talking about?

“No?” You ask back because that sounds like the best way to answer this question right - and it’s true too.

“Good,” he claps your shoulder, “Because your brother didn’t have anything against me training you and it would be a shame if you’d decide now to go into Medical instead.”

“Oh… alright,” you force yourself to smile, “Do you… can I… draw your blood?”

“Oh sure, right, come in.” He beckons you to follow him into his office.

An office that is even smaller than a turbo lift. When he turns to sit on his chair, his leg bumps into yours. You try not to flinch.

He rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. His skin is smooth and almost hairless. You stare at the fair skin and he sends you a tentative smile.

“Laser does that to ye, Lass. So be careful with those things.”

You nod, unable to talk.

When you lean forward to get a better look at his veins, your head bumps his shoulder. This time you flinch.

He doesn’t speak and you prepare everything, needle ready to draw the blood, your focus doubled because of how his breath ghosts over the skin of your neck every time he exhales.

“Ye have freckles on yer neck.” His voice is too close and too sudden. You flinch and he yelps when you all but ram the needle into the soft crook of his arm.

“OH MY GOD!” You scream and pull the needle out immediately. Wrong move. Absolutely wrong move. The wrongest move…

He lets out a pained sound.

“You’re bleeding!” You yelp, pressing your fingers against the wound, your eyes darting around the room, skip his face, towards your equipment. You grab some wound dressing and press it on the wound instead of your fingers, chiding yourself for your stupidity. You should have done that immediately.

You dare to look up again. He’s biting his lip and you can only assume the pain he must be in.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that! You scared me and I flinched and I! I’m so sorry! I’m going to take you to Med Bay so they can look over that and draw the blood properly! I’m so sorry!”

“Nah, Lass,” he interrupts your rant, “It’s okay.”

He doesn’t look okay, though. He’s pale and sweating, his lip a thin line, his fingers curled around the armrests.

“I will get you to Med Bay,” you insist, wiping your bloody hand on your uniform.

“No!” He insists, straightening in his seat, “Ye will draw my blood first. And then I will follow ye out of the engine rooms and go to Med Bay myself, if necessary. But I will not get carried ou’ of here because of a bloody needle.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Now take a deep breath, prep that needle again and draw my blood.”

-

The walk to Med Bay is silent. Mr. Scott is still as pale as before and he walks slower than you believe he did before. Sometimes he sways softly when he takes a step and you touch his arm lightly to direct him and draw his attention back onto the task at hand: walking.

You peak into Med Bay first, glad that McCoy is nowhere to be seen for the moment.

A blonde nurse steps over when you walk in and you explain her the situation. She moves Mr. Scott to a Bio Bed and rolls up the sleeve he had pulled down beforehand to mask the growing dark purple bruise in the crook of his arm.

“Can I help?” You ask, your voice weak.

“Why don’t you take the blood samples to the Lab?” The nurse asks with a voice that contains so much sweetness it makes her sound even more annoyed.

“Right,” you nod, swallow and bow before you can berate yourself. And then you stumble out of Med Bay as fast as you possibly can.


	7. Chapter 7

“I fucked up,” you greet your brother when he steps into your room.

He freezes right at the door.

“Is there… is there blood on your uniform?”

You look down at yourself, curse and jump up from the couch. “Shit, yeah, that’s Mr. Scott’s.”

“You killed Mr. Scott?!”

There’s pure panic in your brother’s voice now.

“NO!” You yell back, “No! I just… I flinched.”

“What did you do? Is he going to lose his arm? Is he-”

“Stop!” You put up your hand, “Stop! You’re going to make me have a panic attack. Everything will be fine. He will hate me for the rest of his life, but… everything will be… fine.”

Your brother closes his mouth, takes a few deep breaths and opens it again.

“How about you shower, I make us something to eat and then we talk about it?”

“I love you,” you answer him and walk towards the bathroom, pulling your top off along the way.

“Yeah!” He calls after you, “I love me too.”

“So…” Your brother looks down at your hand, using the fork to move your food from one side of the plate to the other instead of eating it, “I’m taking a wild guess here, but I’d say almost killing Mr. Scott is not the only thing you’re worried about.”

“I don’t know if I should talk to you about it.” You take a bite, chew and swallow, unable to tell what it’s tasting like. Your brother is a good cook, but your mind is occupied.

“Why not? Too juicy?”

“No. Because you’re biased. You want me to date Gray.”

He sighs, puts down the fork and sighs again.

“Yes, I want you to date Gray. Because he’s closer to you in age, because I know him good enough to be sure he would never hurt you and… well, I like Mr. Scott, I really do, but I’m just afraid you might get hurt.”

“You shouldn’t worry that much about me. I’m still ten minutes older than you. And you didn’t worry about me when I was on New Vulcan or did my research papers anywhere else.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true. I was worried. I was just not able to actually do something. Now I am and apparently I fucked it up as well. Do you like Gray?”

“Yeah,” you agree, “But…”

“But not as much as Mr. Scott.”

“It’s different,” you exclaim, dropping your fork as well, “Gray feels like someone who can be a friend. But Mr. Scott is… he makes me nervous and I kind of hate that, but it’s also kind of nice, you know? To experience this kind of strong feelings. I mean, I don’t think I have a chance with him anymore, now that I rammed a needle into his arm, but… I don’t want to start dating Gray just because I can’t have Mr. Scott.”

“In my first year here I burned Mr. Scott’s arms with a Laser. He’s unable to grow hair there ever since,” your brother confesses out of nowhere.

You stare at him in confusion. “What? What do you-”

“What I’m trying to tell you with this is the fact that he kept me in Engineering and taught me more than anyone else on this ship or the Academy. And there are a lot of people on this ship, a lot of Engineers who could teach you the stuff he thinks you should know. But he insists on doing it himself. A needle in his arm won’t keep him from that.”

“But… I don’t want him so see me as a student only.”

“Well, I can’t help with that,” your brother smiles suddenly, “But don’t you have some female friends that could help you with that?”

-

As usual the world looks different the next morning.

You aim to try a different hairstyle, but end up getting frustrated with it. You don’t own any makeup and even though you brought some of the fancier clothes you had worn on vulcan, wearing them here would make you look more weird than mature.

Your brother isn’t there when you step out of the little bedroom. It’s weird having breakfast without him, but you’ve spent too much time on your hair to be able to walk to mess before work starts.

P-tra winks at you when she walks in. You want to talk to her, desperately, even though she’s already told you her opinion about the two guys you feel you have to choose between.

“Lieutenant,” Spock addresses you instead and you turn away from P-tra.

“Yes, Commander?”

“I would like to have a word with you.”

He sounds serious. You work your brain, worried the Bacteria you’ve worked one was more precious than you’ve thought.

You follow him to his own office, a place you know he hardly uses. It must be really bad.

And then he turns and looks at you.

“Report have reached me that you’ve attacked Mr. Scott yesterday evening?”

“WHAT? No! No, I… It was an accident!”

“So you stabbed him in the arm with a needle?”

“I… yes,” you swallow dryly while he raises one eyebrow, waiting for you to go on.

And you decide, with the same heavy feeling you had in your gut this morning, that you have play with your cards open or not at all.

“Mr… Mr. Spock, may I ask you a personal question?”

“Why would you have to do that?”

“Because the answer might help with solving the problem I have with Mr. Scott.”

“Then ask.”

“I have been informed that you are in a relationship with a human… And I… well, I wanted to ask if you find…”, you swallow again, searching for the right words, “If you find the reactions of your body and mind when in close proximity to them, as well as themselves… frustrating sometimes?”

He raises his eyebrow again, simply looking at you for a long, quiet moment.

“Are you insituating that you are in love with Mr. Scott?”

You let out a low groan, shaking your head in frustration.

“I believe I might be, yes.”

“Fascinating,” he mumbles to himself before speaking to you again, “And this emotion is entirely new to you?”

“Yes,” you agree, “Was it new to you too?”

His lips form a tight line and you realize you’ve overstepped the invisible boundaries between you.

This conversation would have been so much easier with Prime Spock, you think and send him an apologetic smile.

“I feel conflicted,” you tell him instead, eager to get off your chest what no one else seems to be able to understand. Maybe you are half vulcan, at least your mind and personality are.

“Because he is making me nervous and unnaturally self aware, but at the same time I can’t focus and he seems to believe me as younger and less experienced in my field than I really are. And my brother has introduced me to someone closer to my own age, who would be the logical choice, but I don’t know if I should really take the logical choice when it won’t cease my nervousness the least bit anyway.”

You stop your rambling and bite your lip. “I’m sorry. You are my superior officer now. I keep forgetting that you and Prime Spock are not the same person.”

“You were comfortable discussing those matters with him?” Mr. Spock asks, eyebrow still raised. You nod.

“Well, as you know him so well, you should be able to deduce his answer, right?”

You open your mouth in surprise, before closing them again and nodding.

“Yes, I believe so. He would say something along the lines of ‘doing what the heart tells us to do’.”

Commander Spock nods. “I will make sure that the report is changed to the matter of an accident.”

“Thank you,” you whisper relieved, “If that… if that is everything, I will go back to work.”

“You may.”

-

“What were you talking about?” P-tra asks as soon as Commander Spock has left the Labs to get back to the Bridge.

“About the fact that I stabbed Mr. Scott yesterday evening when I tried to take his blood.”

“I heard about that. Apparently he almost bled out on the way to Med-Bay and they had to do CPR on him.”

You stare at her in shock. “He didn’t bleed much, he was just walking a bit wobbly.”

“Really? I did think it sounded a bit exaggerated. But why did you stab him anyway?”

“I flinched. He was breathing onto my neck which was distracting enough and then he suddenly commented that I have freckles there.”

“You do?” P-tra stands on her tiptoes to look at your neck. “You really do. I don’t really understand what they are good for, but I can understand that he must have been intrigued by them. You don’t see spotty necks all the time, right?”

You laugh at that. It seems only natural for an Arcadian woman like P-tra to be intrigued by what she calls ‘spotty’ skin. It’s new to her.

You open your mouth to ask her. About what she believes you should do and if she thinks you look younger than you are, but you close your mouth again, deciding against it.

You feel like you already know what she will answer. And you’re not sure if you even want to hear it.

“Everything allright?” P-tra asks and you nod.

“Yes. I just remembered that my new sample must have come in. Will you excuse me?”

She sends you a smile, getting back to work herself.

You can’t shake the thought though that your lie must have been obvious.


	8. Chapter 8

You do what you do best. You work, aiming to stop thinking about anything else.

The new sample of bacteria grows exactly to your liking, and you skip lunch to check on them in fifteen-minute intervals which seems to be exactly the right thing.

You check on P-tra’s work as well in between, as she had requested, and write her a message before you start with the assignment Spock has forwarded to you: Plan the away mission to a planet you have been orbiting in order to collect data.

This is your first time and it’s exciting and frightening at the same time. The air down there is breathable for humans, there’s water, drinkable if cooked beforehand and the temperatures won’t be a problem either if no one forgets to bring a jacket, but those factors don’t include dangerous plants, carnivorous animals or other possible threats. And if you mess it up a little, it can turn into a big problem really fast.

There are three major decisions you have to make. Where to land, who is going and what do they need to take with them.

You calculate it three times.

Once according to the rulebook, one time adhering to logic and one time just to make sure, before you forward it to Spock. It’s nothing more but a recommendation, in the end, the Captain makes the decisions.

And when your PADD tells you that your message has been received, the tension leaves your shoulders and you allow yourself a moment for yourself, resting your head on your arms.

“You should take a break,” P-tra tells you from your side, “You worked through lunch, right? You should get something to eat and a moment without work.”

You want to disagree, but she’s faster.

“Commander Spock would tell you that it is illogical to put your body under the stress of hunger and overworking when the environment provides breaks at reasonable intervals.”

“You’re right,” you agree and she looks at you with wide eyes, obviously surprised that you give in so easily, “If someone asks for me, I will be back in twenty minutes.”

You order something from the replicator in the lab and step out into the hallways, searching for a spot where you can sit and eat in silence.

But then you turn left and see the female Lieutenant that had once interrupted your conversation with Commander Spock, turning away from a quick conversation with a fellow crew member, making her way towards the turbo lift.

And maybe it’s spontaneous and less than logical, but you pick up your pace and reach the lift just as she steps onto it.

“Excuse me, are you… are you Lieutenant Uhura?”

She looks at you with surprise and a bit of confusion.

“Yes?”

You sigh out in relief and step in as well.

“I have been told that you are in a relationship with Commander Spock…” Her gaze hardens and you are quick to apologize, waving your hands around but stopping when the soup from your bowl spills out onto your hands.

“I don’t want to pry into your private life, I’m seeking advice.”

“On what?”

“Love?”

She snorts and presses a button, bringing the lift to life.

“No, seriously. And as the one person who manages a relationship with a Vulcan, you might be able to help me.”

“I might be able to help you?” She repeats your words. “How?”

“You must have a thorough understanding of Commander Spock feelings if you are able to hold up a relationship with him.”

“So?”

“And as I have been told repeatedly, my behavior is very alike to that of a human.”

“And you’re in love.”

“Some would call it that.”

“And what would you call it?”

“Immense frustration,” you responded immediately and she throws back her head, laughing.

“Tell me about it.”

So you do.

When you step back onto the turbo lift half an hour later, you haven’t eaten anything at all, but you still feel a lot better.

Following the instinct to talk to Lieutenant Uhura had been right. Not only had she listened carefully, but had given you advice as well, including teaching you the basics of makeup and what to do with your hair in the morning.

Gamma shift would start in a bit more than thirty minutes.

You pulled out your comm and contacted P-tra.

“How is everything?”

“Pretty lame. You can take the rest of your lunch break as well if you want to.”

“That would be perfect. I will be back at the lab before Gamma starts anyway. Comm me if necessary.”

“Will do.”

You end the connection and turn towards one of the computers stationed in the hallways, looking for Lieutenant Cee.

“Gray?” You knock softly against the outside of the Jefferies tube he should be in. “It’s me, Y/N.”

“Y/N?” His head pops out and he looks at you, stopping himself mid-talk. “Are you wearing makeup?”

“I do,” you agree, unable to lie. He looks surprised… and a little bit taken aback.

“Can we talk?” You ask and he nods, still a bit tentatively.

“Sure, if you can climb in?” He offers you a hand that you refuse.

You lean against the wall of the tube, feet planted against the floor.

Should you cross your arms? Or will that make you look less approachable than you want to? You fold your hands in front of your hips instead and leave them there, even though your mind immediately tells you that this pose will make you look nervous - fidgeting will make it worse.

Gray checks the Panel he has been working on before turning to you.

He looks at you, licks his lips and mimics your stance.

“You didn’t put that makeup on for me, did you?”

“No,” you admit and he gives you an easy smile.

“And you’re here to tell me that you don’t want to see me again.”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, almost sheepishly, before shaking your hand, “I do want to see you again. But… as a friend… you know?”

He smiles. “I am fine with that.”

“You are?” You ask, unable to keep the surprise from your voice.

“Sure. But I feel flattered that you wanted to talk me through it.”

You can feel your cheeks burn from embarrassment. Gray chuckles.

“I am holding you back from meeting someone else, don’t you?”

You want to say something but are interrupted by someone knocking against the hatch over your heads.

“Cee? Are ye in there?”

You stiffen in shock at hearing his voice and Gray sends you a look containing equal amounts of surprise and confusion.

“Yes, I’m coming.” He answers but Mr. Scott opens the hatch from the outside and peers inside.

“Are ye finished already? I need to talk ye through somethin’ before I-” he talks, looks over to you, back to Gray and stops in the middle of his sentence to look back at you. He seems to be at a loss of words and you only hope it’s a positive reaction.

“We had to discuss a few things,” Gray offers an explanation and you nod.

“I should get back to the Labs anyway…” you try to get a way out, but Mr. Scott does not move from his place. “Ehm, can you let me out?”

“Ach, of course, of course!” He stretches out his hand to pull you up and out of the tube and you give in and let him help, your face hot from embarrassment the whole time.

His hand is warm on your skin, his grip firm and steady. He lets go of you way too soon.

You walk away stiffly, your blood pulsing so loud in your ears you can’t hear the two talking behind you.

But the footsteps, you can hear them.

You turn around on instinct, surprised to find Mr. Scott catching up to you.

“Did you forget something?”

You feel so self-conscious with his gaze traveling over your face, making you aware of the color on your lips and the mascara weighing down your lashes.

He looks positively lost for words for a moment and you cocking your head to your side in question seems to be no help at all.

“Mr. Scott?” You stretch out your hand and put it on his elbow and you can’t say what brings him to his senses, your voice or your touch.

“Still go’ a lesson planned, right Lass?” He asks with a smile that does not quite reach his eyes.

“Oh, sure, yes.” You try to act like you haven’t looked forward to his lesson as much as you actually do and cringe at the result. You sound surprised as if you’ve completely forgotten it. Way to go…

The smile leaves his lips.

“Ye donnae have time?” He asks and you might be a fool, but he sounds almost dissapointed.

You throw yourself into a flood of words, assuring him you have.


	9. Chapter 9

Time flies.

One week passes, then another and all of a sudden your brother bursts into your room, announcing that you have to postpone all plans for the evening.

“We’re celebrating. You managed to stay sane during your first month here.”

You stare at him in surprise.

“I’ve already been here a month?”

“Yeah. You didn’t notice?”

“No, I did not.” You grab your lipstick and head back into the bathroom, adamant on getting the look just right. It’s surprising what a bit of color can do to you and you like the feel of it on your lips.

“If you don’t tell Mr. Scott that you can’t come to his lessons tonight, I will.”

“How do you even know there’s a lesson going on tonight?” You ask from the bathroom.

“Because I’m a genius and you’re dropping hints. You wear this specific lipstick only on the days you have lessons.”

“Not true, I wear it on other days too. Also, it’s the only one I own.”

“Shush. Also, there’s a pattern in which Mr. Scott plans his lessons and I’ve cracked it.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Shush, commoner. You’re the one who writes the dates down in her PADD and leaves tiny little hearts next to his name.”

You drop your lipstick and jump out of the bathroom, but your brother is waving the PADD over his head already, a triumphant smirk on his lips.

“Stop hacking my PADD!”

“Your password is Scott, how could I not hack it?”

You grab your PADD from him and stuff it into your bag, hopeful against your better knowledge that this might keep your brother away from it.

“Well, what are you going to do?”

“What?” You look up to your brother watching you with interest.

“What are you going to do? I mean, I know how you feel about him. I might have tried to set you up with Gray, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know you. That’s not just liking him anymore. But I think you’re doing it wrong.”

You don’t know what you want to do. Laugh at his words or try to take his bluntness serious.

“I don’t remember you ever having a relationship that lasted longer than two weeks.”

“At least I had relationships. I’m just trying to give you the male view of things.”

“The male view?” You ask, fighting back a chuckle, “I’ve already heard the Vulcan, the Arcadian and the female view, how about yours?”

“Well, you’ve never missed a lesson. You’re making it too easy for him. Does he still think you’re a newbie who he has to train?”

“No!” You pause, “Yes? I mean, I don’t know, I think he does.”

“And are you a newbie?”

“In the engineering field yes.”

“But you aren’t in the engineering field,” he reminds you, “And you haven’t shown any interest in it before. If you want to have some fun with him, your plan might work, but if you want to have a relationship with him, he needs to see your worth.”

“My worth?”

“Yes! You’re Commander Spock’s right hand. You plan away missions and they’re successful. And that bacteria thing you’ve worked at, you said you found something.”

“Sure, but I don’t think I can impress him with a system for anaerobic bacteria growth.”

“But you would stay true to yourself.”

You sigh and grab your bag.

“I will try to follow that advice.”

You walk towards the door, waving your brother off when he calls after you.

“Don’t forget to cancel the lesson! I’m bringing drinks, you choose the movies!”

-

“Lieutenant Y/N,” Spock greets you when you enter, his eyes flicking over your face to check the color of your lips before meeting your own steady gaze.

“I appreciate your eagerness to learn about the technology we work with every day, but I fear it is getting out of hand.”

You stiffen and take a step closer, lowering your voice to give yourself as much privacy as you can get on a ship like this.

“What are you implying, Commander?”

“You have set your focus on this engineering training. You have lied to me at least twice this month, trying to mask those lessons. What are you hoping to get out of this? A place in the engineering department?”

You bite your lip and take a breath.

“I am sorry that I lied to you, Commander.”

“You should be. Vulcans do not lie, and as I have grown to know you, I found it highly illogical of you to lie in a situation where you must have anticipated that I’ve already known the truth.”

You look down at your feet and up again.

“I was just trying to be on par with him.”

“By stripping yourself of the credit and worth you’ve earned? It sounds like a child’s plan and not that of an individual who is capable of leading the next mission.”

“Capability is not attractive to everyone,” you disagree and he quirks an eyebrow.

“But confidence is. Lieutenant Y/N, you’re going to lead tomorrow’s Away Mission. I want your recommendations by nine hundred and Dr. McCoy’s report of your health by eleven hundred.”

You take the PADD he hands you, unable to speak for a moment.

And when you find your voice, he’s left the lab.

-

You step into Lab 5, PADD in hand and a pen behind your ear that you pull out to play with whenever you feel nervous again.

“Lieutenant Pimentel?” You ask the first Lieutenant that crosses your way. Lab 5 is loud, crowded and hot. The temperature is wanted, as most of the science officers here have majored in botany.

The Lieutenant turns, eyeing you with giant, grey eyes, before nodding and pointing ýou in the right direction.

“Lieutenant Pimentel? Hi.” The girl turns around, the big black safety goggles sitting snuggly on her face giving her a rather alien appearance, but she seems to be able to see you through them.

“Oh my- Lieutenant Y/N! I’m- I was at your press conference! I mean the meeting you did when you came here? Your studies are amazing, especially the New Vulcan plants, the Pelargonium Sidoides, I’ve read your article about them, does their juice really-?”

“Yes, they do.” She squeals in excitement and throws her fist in the air, before realizing that you haven’t come around to talk about awesome plants with her.

“Shoot, I’m sorry, what did you want to talk about?” She pulls her goggles off and puts her gloves away, leading you to a spot at the far edge of the lab, where you can talk without having to raise your voice.

“I’m putting together an away mission. Sinar is a Class M planet. A thick hull of stone shields the flora and fauna from the radiation of their two suns. I’ve seen your aptitude charts and I doubt there’s anyone as crazy about plants as you.”

Pimentel’s eyes grow to the size of saucers.

“You’re letting me down to Sinar?”

“You’re going to do something stupid down there?”

“NO! Absolutely not! I’ve- I’ve dreamt of going down there, I mean, everyone dreams of going down there, are you sure you want me?”

“Absolutely sure. You have a twin sister on board?”

“Yes, yes, she’s a helmsman.”

“Qualified enough to steer our shuttle through that stone hull?”

“Crazy enough to try it.”

“I’ll put her on the team then. I need your health report by eleven hundred, don’t let me down.”

“I won’t.”

You turn around to leave, but Lieutenant Pimentel moves fast and catches your elbow.

“Lieutenant?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you giving me this chance? I mean, I’m not a newbie, but there are more qualified people on board?”

“I can’t imagine anyone better suited for a job like this than someone who loves it. You don’t half-ass a job you love.”

She smiles at that.

“Thank you.” She offers you her hand to shake. “I’m Tayla by the way. My friends call me Tay.”

“Y/N. Beware of my brother.”

She blushes. “Oh, I’ve met him already.”

-

You choose Gray as the only needed engineering officer for the mission. He is number three on your list of suitable officers. Number two is your brother, who refuses to set foot on a shuttle and talks himself out of it by taking on a three-day job somewhere on the ship. Number one is Mr. Scott, but you can’t build confidence and try to woo him at the same time.

Gray’s answer reaches your PADD the moment Dr. McCoy steps towards the Bio-Bed you’re sitting on, a frown on his face and a tricorder in his hand.

“Put that thing away.”

You follow his orders and sit still, a task that is made incredibly difficult when the door swishes open and a cheerful Scottish accent cuts through the comfortable quiet of a calm med-bay.

“Ach, Lass, what did ye get yaself into this time?”

He steps towards the bed, completely ignoring the Doctor.

“Nothing,” you mumble, aware of the fact that the beeping sound of the tricorder increases in volume the closer Mr. Scott steps. Your heart is definitely betraying you now.

“I have to get checked out for an away mission?”

“An away mission? Ye’r helping?”

“Y-yes,” you agree and Dr. McCoy actually stops in his movement to look at you and chuckle. You send him the meanest glare you can, hoping he will pick up the message. You don’t know if he does, but at least he keeps his thoughts to himself.

“Wait, is it that one to Sinar.”

“Yes?”

“Oh, that’s good. Gonna keep an eye on ye. Donnae wanna ge’ ye hurt.”

He claps a warm hand on your knee and smiles down at you.

“Doctor, I’m gonna take a look at my guy over there, if that’s alrigh’ with ye?”

“Go on and talk some sense into him.” Dr. McCoy grumbles and gives you a hypo right when you try to turn your head to look after Mr. Scott.

“Ow,” you rub the spot on your neck.

“Serves you right,” the Doctor grumbles, putting his stuff away, “telling him you’re helping on the mission when you’re the one responsible for that nonsense. Darlin’, you might be too young to know that, but a real man doesn’t need you to put yourself down to flatter him.”

You glare at him again but this time you choose anger to mask the hurt in your eyes.

“Thank you for your kind advice!” You snap and slip off the bed, “Next time I want to be treated like a little kid, I’ll tell you in advance so you can store some sugar-free suckers for me… Are we done here? Good.”

You step out of the med bay, stomping down two hallways before leaning against the white walls, feeling your anger seep away and the anxiety creeping back. No matter how nice the lipstick looks, you’re still young and somewhat inexperienced in some things.

You sigh and pull your PADD out of your bag to read Gray’s message is. The only problem is that it’s not from Gray.

Helping Spock with getting the Crew together, Lass? Diligent as ever. But I have to tell you that Gray got lungworms yesterday. As his superior officer, I will take up the job for him. Gonna send the health report to Spock to spare you the work. Scotty

The next thing you say comes from deep within your heart.

“Shit…”


	10. Chapter 10

“Lieutenant Y/N?”

You look up from the List on your PADD displaying all the things you still have to check before the mission can start.

Gold tunic, bright blue eyes…

“Captain Kirk, how can I help you?”

He smiles at your eagerness, but his steady gaze never leaves you and his eyes are bright enough to shed a light on even the secrets hidden deep inside your words.

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not,” you disagree, but still unable to lie, “The correct term would be anxious.”

His smile grows. “And why would you be anxious? This isn’t your first away mission.”

“But the first one where I have to babysit the Chief of Engineering.”

You cringe at your choice of words, but it’s too late to take them back.

He chuckles, but there’s no sign of amusement in his eyes.

“Do me the favor of explaining that term to me.”

“Babysitting?” You lick your lips when he nods. There’s no easy way out of this now, it seems, so you might as well go with the truth.

“Commander Spock gave me the authority to lead the mission, telling me to strengthen my trust in myself. Somehow I must have given Mr. Scott the impression of someone who knows nothing and needs to be protected when I’m not and I don’t know how I can uphold this impression while trying to lead the team.”

The Captain’s gaze softens.

“Why would you even try to uphold the impression of something you’re not?”

A soft sigh escapes you and you bite your lip, searching for words that will tell him enough without telling him everything.

“Maybe I fear what he will think of me when I correct his impressions.”

“What would be scarier? Him liking you more or less than he does now?”

You want to say yes, but you’re not ready to admit that Mr. Scott liking you is the prospect of your worries. Definitely not in front of the Captain and even less in front of James T. Kirk, who is a good friend of Mr. Scott.

“You don’t have to say anything, I can read it in your eyes.”  
The Captain smiles at you and you remember that there is a reason he holds this position.

“And I don’t think he could like you less,” he said and you open your mouth to ask why, to ask for more words, more explanations, when the man in question steps out of the door.

“Y/N,” he greets, “Captain, good to see you, I wanted to ask something about the mission. Are we going to take Shuttle Y5N?”

“Well, are you?” The Captain turns to you and you stutter nervously, trying to get the knot out of your tongue.

“Y-Yes.”

You can feel their eyes on you and you offer more information.

“Lieutenant Pimentel will fly.”

“Lieutenant Pimentel?” Mr. Scott looks from you to the Captain, “Didn’t she just crash a shuttle on Delta V two months ago?”

“It was a controlled crash due to unforeseen weather changes,” you argue, unable to help yourself. Maybe being nervous was better than being annoyed…

Both guys throw you a look and you wave your PADD around in a vague gesture.

“Whatever, I’m going to go check off the rest of my list. Permission to leave, Captain?”

“Permission granted. Go eat some chocolate. That’s good for the nerves.”

“Will do, Captain,” you nod into his direction and that of Mr. Scott, leaving as quickly as you can without making it look like you’re running.

How will you ever be able to survive that mission with him on board?

-

“How was the chocolate?” Mr. Scott greets you when he steps onto the shuttle and takes a seat.

You shrug, unable to hide the embarrassment from your features and check the little box beneath his name on your PADD.

“That bad?”

“I tried to make roasted almonds but they turned into coal instead,” you offer and look away from his laughter to the twins coming up towards the shuttle.

Talking to him has become easier throughout the month of training, but it hasn’t taken a lot of the nervous energy his presence causes in you.

“Tayla,” you nod to her in greeting and she grins at you.

“Wrong, it’s Haylee,” she claps your shoulder and points towards her sister, “That’s Tayla. You can tell one from the other pretty easily, all you need to know is that we look completely alike.”

“But don’t worry about it,” Tayla cuts in, “Just call us Tay and Hay if you need to get through to us faster.”

“Thank you for the offer, I will still try and get it right the next time. Names are important.”

“They are,” Haylee agrees, “But if you excuse me, I have to greet something more important: The shuttle cockpit.”

“Permission granted,” you tell her and she leaves with quick steps.

Barely ten minutes later you’re ready to leave.

You take the only seat left, careful not to bump into Mr. Scott next to you when you put on the safety belt - or at least not more often than absolutely necessary - before you grab your PADD and look down at it.

“Ready for take-off, Haylee?”

“Aye. Ready when you are,” she turns her head to the side to give you a smile.

“Let’s go then.”

And the shuttle takes off, out of the hangar of the Enterprise and down towards the gray stone hull of Sinar.

“Nervous?” Mr. Scott asks next to you and you are well aware of how much space there really is inside a shuttle, the people around you, listening in on you even if they don’t really want to.

“Not really, no,” you lie and clutch your PADD a bit tighter, “But I… well, I just want to say sorry again, that I had to cancel yesterdays lesson, you know, it’s just…”

“Your brother is a force of nature, I know. He came by today, mentioning you had a lot of fun.”

“Well, yeah, we had.” You bit your lip out of habit and register his eyes flicking down to your mouth for a second. You’re almost hopeful for a second until you realize you’ve forgotten to put on lipstick. He must have noticed the change in color.

“And if you want to, we can catch up on that lesson when we’re back from the mission.”

You can imagine what your brother would want you to answer, but he’s not here and you do want to spend the time with him.

“I’d love to,” you answer and watch his face light up with a smile.

“We’re entering the atmosphere,” Haylee announces, “Get ready for the possibility of some turbulence, guys.”

You look around at the team you’ve put together.

Mr. Scott for Engineering, Tayla and you for Science, T’Leel as your medical officer, Haylee as the Pilot and Lieutenant Parks who’s there for security and communications.

It’s a small team, focusing mainly on the science aspect of the mission, and all you want is to get down there, get the job done and get everyone back to the ship in one piece, including the shuttle.

You’re confident about your abilities, about the abilities of every team member and about your calculations, but confidence can turn you blind to warning signs.

“Relax,” Mr. Scott whispers next to you and he puts his hand on your knee for exactly one and a half second. You forget how to breathe while he touches you, hyper-aware of the rawness of his skin through the thin fabric.

Damn him and what he does to you.

“Everything will turn out fine,” he assures you and pulls back his hand.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to smile and nod at him.

And then the turbulence starts.

It takes the shuttle about fifteen minutes to get to one of the holes in the hull, but by the time you reach it, everyone’s looking as tense as you feel, clutching the seats beneath you for stabilization in the shaking shuttle.

“Alright gals and pals,” Haylee’s voice sounds as cheerful as ever, comforting you and everyone else, “We’re entering the hull. Turbulence should be over now. Tay, dear, would you be so kind and play the tour guide?”

“Permission to explain the Bioluminescent Life Forms,” Tayla looks at you, eagerness evident in her eyes and voice.

“Permission granted,” your voice sounds raw and you feel the same, your heart still beating hard against your ribcage as if you’re just waiting for something to happen.

Don’t worry that much, you tell yourself, think logically. If something happens… If something happens… It could be like those movies Mom used to watch. Girl gets into danger, boy rescues her and realizes he loves her.

“No, that’s not logical,” you mumble to yourself before you can hold the words back.

“Huh?” Mr. Scott turns to you, but everyone else is still listening to Tayla’s explanations of the glowing plants outside the shuttle, covering the inside of the stone hull.

“Nothing important,” you tell him with another forced smile, trying to focus onto Tayla instead.

She takes a break to breathe, smiling in anticipation and that’s when you notice T’Leer’s blank stare.

It could be easily misconceived as him being bored by Tayla’s speech, but you’ve spent to much time with Vulcans to be fooled by something like that. He’s caught onto something entirely else and you close your eyes to hear what he hears.

When you open them again, T’Leer looks right back at you and you nod. He doesn’t have the background to know what’s moving around the shuttle, but you do. There are three types of animals that fit this noise, behavior, and environment and you don’t want to deal with any of them.

“Tayla,” you address her as calmly as you can, “Could you please sit down and put your safety belt back on.”

“Of course,” she follows your orders while finishing her speech and you open your own belt, slipping out of your seat and towards Haylee.

Someone catches your wrist and pulls you back slightly, just enough for you to turn around to look.

“What’s going on?” There is concern written all over Mr. Scott’s face, in bold letters too.

You force the third smile in a short time and lie again. “Nothing. I just have to ask something concerning the landing, that’s all.”

“That’s a lie.”

You lean forward until your nose is almost touching his and the only thing keeping you calm is the thought of what might be outside.

“I need everyone to stay calm,” you tell him softly, your voice emotionless, “I’ll tell you everything later, but could you tell them a story in the meantime.”

“Sure, Lass,” he lets go of you and you slip into the tight space next to Haylee’s seat, careful to keep your voice low.

“Haylee, I need you to flash all of the shuttle’s lights right now. I want us to shine as bright as a star to everyone out there.”

She throws you a look and you don’t even try to fake a smile for her.

“What’s going on?” She asks while so follows your orders and you look outside, catching movement in the shadows.

“Before I tell you that I need to know if you can pull off that controlled crash you did on Delta Vega again, here, on the planet’s surface.”

Her eyebrows rise up enough to remind you of your superior officer.

“Shouldn’t we better get the Enterprise to beam us back up instead?”

“The stones around us are covered in Pyrocystis fusiformis, those glowing plants. They’re interfering the signals. They don’t grow near water, so if we can get down to the surface our chances rise by 74,5 percent.”

“74,5 percent?” Haylee asks and looks down towards the planet’s surface before she sighs.

“It’s going to be hell, but I can pull it off.”

You look at her and she sighs again. “I can pull it off to about 70 or 80 percent.”

“Make it a ninety,” you tell her and clap her shoulder just like she did with you earlier before you turn to get back to the others.

You’ve just taken two steps when something hits the shuttle, hard. You stumble forward and to the floor, your left knee hitting the floor hard, your head landing in someone’s lap, warm arms around you, holding you as the lights flicker and turn off.

“What was that?” Lieutenant Parker asks, her voice high with panic.

“Inhabitants don’t seem to be happy to have us,” you groan and pull yourself up.

“Careful,” Mr. Scott’s voice is too close for this to be Tayla, as you had initially thought. You must have landed in his lap of all people.

“I’m alright,” you tell him, but let him help you into your seat, putting the safety belt on yourself, “Everyone stay calm! Now that it has attacked us despite the lights, I’m 95,3 percent sure it’s a Chiroptera Chordata. As soon as we get to the surface she will lose interest in us.”

“She?” Mr. Scott asks.

“Only the female Chiroptera Chordata fight and attack. The males stay behind and look after the children,” you tell him, but his answer gets lost in Haylee’s next announcement.

“Everyone, grab your neighbor, seat or will to live because it’s going to get bumpy. We’re landing and it’s not going to be a nice one.”

Warm fingers wrap around your hand. The inside of the shuttle is still dark, but Tayla and the others are on the other side of the shuttle. Mr. Scott pulls your hand towards him and rests it on his left leg.

It’s probably meant to be comforting, but all you can think of is the fact that he’s holding your hand.

There’s the noise of Haylee’s seat sliding out of its anchoring and sliding back into the main body of the shuttle, her voice counting down the seconds and the deafening sound of the steel nose of the shuttle hitting the surface, before it crashes down on the floor as well, the force shooting through your back and up into your head, leaving your ears ringing.

You force open your mouth through the pain and the disorientation, asking the most important question.

“Is everyone okay?!”

And there’s only deafening silence and the ringing in your ears as your answer.


	11. Chapter 11

“Is everyone okay?!” You shout, your hands grabbing your safety belt, yanking it away from your body with more force than necessary. You lean to your side and there’s Mr. Scott, leaning to the side, only supported by the safety harness.

“Mr. Scott!” You reach out for him, trying to fight the panic bubbling in your chest and when you feel warm skin and a slight stubble, you pull him towards you, as gently as possible.

His breath ghosts over your fingers and you let out a sigh of relief. He’s alive.

You lean him into a more comfortable position before slipping off your chair to get to the survival kit stored beneath it.

“Tayla!” You call, “Haylee! Parks! T’Leer!”

No One answers and there’s only darkness in the shuttle, the Bioluminescent Life Forms to far away for their light to be helpful.

And then the Survival kit slips out of its anchoring and into your hands and you find the flashlight and turn it on, a bright light in the darkness of the shuttle.

The first thing you can see is the pale face of T’Leer staring down at you and you screech involuntarily before you feel his fingers press into a pressure point at your jaw. There’s a sharp pain going through your jaw and up to your ears, followed by a weird sound and then T’Leers calm, monotone voice. The crash must have had a greater impact on your hearing than you had initially thought.

“We are all alive, Lieutenant,” he tells you, “Please stop calling our names when you can’t hear us answer.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, shining the flashlight around. Haylee has slipped out of her seat and is sitting next to her sister who must have hurt her arm, judging the way she’s holding it.

Park’s face is ghostly pale, but she’s sending you an encouraging smile.

You turn to Mr. Scott, the only one who’s still without conscious. T’Leer is examining him, before pressing two fingers against his neck.

Mr. Scott jerks awake, blinking against the harsh light of the flashlight, before he groans.

“What was tha’?”

“We crashed,” you tell him, touching T’Leer’s shoulder lightly while concentrating on the thought that he should take a look at Tayla’s shoulder. The Vulcan turns to you, nods and leaves.

“A controlled crash on the planet surface. We got some minor injuries, but otherwise, we are good to get out of here.”

He blinks up at you sluggishly.

“Ou’ of here? Have ye called the Enterprise already? Will they beam us up?”

“There’s no use in calling them,” you lean forward and open his safety belt, offering him your arm to get out of the seat, “As I told you earlier we have to get to water to get a signal. As soon as T’Leer gives me green light we’re leaving the Shuttle.”

“Ye told me that?” Mr. Scott takes your arm and pulls himself up, swaying a little when he’s standing upright, “Wait, ye wan’ to leave the shuttle? Le’ me check the comm’s, I’m sure I can find a way to call them.”  
“I’ve calculated everything before we went down here. I wasn’t expecting a Chiroptera Chordata, but I was well aware of the geologic structure and its problems.”

Even in the dim light you can see that he’s trying hard to focus on your face.

“That’s not just not yer first mission,” he mumbles, a slight slur in his words, “Right?”

“We’ll talk about that later,” you tell him and look over to T’Leer who’s just finished patching up Tayla.

“We’re good to go, Lieutenant.”

“Alright. We’re going to go as a group, but I want you to keep an eye on your neighbor. Haylee and Tayla, T’Leer and Parks, help each other. We’re going to grab our Survival kits and as many flashlights as you can find in this shuttle and then we make our way to the next river. Haylee, how far off our destination are we?”

“Not much, I had to turn a bit more north because of the wind, it shouldn’t be more than 75 meters.”

“We’re going to keep moving east then, there should be a river in approximately 500 meters. Make sure you’re being noisy when you walk, that should keep possible predators away.”

“Is now later?” Mr. Scott asks when you help him climb down the bluff bank overgrown with dry purple glowing grass.

“What?” You ask, stomping with every careful step you take while keeping an eye out for the smaller but not less deadly predators you might encounter, now the Chiroptera Chordata is moving around hundreds of meters over your head.

“Ye said we would talk about this later,” he reminds you, his words calm and careful. He’s sobered up from the earlier confusion, but the dried blood on his temple tell you that he must have an insane headache.

“I’d rather wait until after this mission is over,” you stop and put the small whistle from the survival kit against your lips, calling out to the rest of your team that is only a few steps ahead.

“Short break,” you order, “We need to get samples.”

“Ye want to get samples?!” Mr. Scott exclaims next to you, “Here? Now? When any second somethin’ could jump out of the shadows and try to kill us?”

“Are you scared?” Parks calls over, her face less pale now, her phaser drawn and ready, “Because I’m not.”

“Phh, scared,” Mr. Scott puffs out his cheek before taking a breath and visibly calming down, “No, I’m worried. Nothin’ works as it should and I want everyone to get back safely.”

T’Leer turns around, a glowing purple plant in his gloved right hand, and throws Mr. Scott a sharp look, “I’ve been on more than ten missions under Lieutenant Y/N and so far everyone has made it back safely.”

“T’Leer,” your voice must sound calm and collected to an outsider, but T’Leer catches the reprimand etched into his name, you can see that by the way, he pulls back his shoulders as if he’s opting to ignore it.

“I transferred to the Enterprise one year before Lieutenant Y/N and when I heard she was coming to work as the right hand of Commander Spock, I was eager to work with her on more missions. Her orders are always logical, Mr. Scott, so if she’s telling us to stop and take samples, we stop and take samples.”

“T’Leer,” you say again and he stops, presses his lips together and turns back around to work.

You’re unable to look into Mr. Scott’s direction and keep yourself busy with taking samples. But when that task is fulfilled you can only step back into the group and move, stomping with every step you take, keeping an eye out on Mr. Scott in case he needs you.

Which he obviously doesn’t.

The time drags on. You’ve kept your mind busy with counting the seconds and minutes from the shuttle to the place you took samples and from there to the first time you can hear water.

Where the water is, everything’s pitch black. The Bioluminescent Life Forms don’t grow near water, as it seems. Darkness means danger, but also the chance to get a signal.

“We need to be as loud and bright as possible,” you order, pulling out glow sticks from your survival kit and handing them out, “Make yourself visible. Does anyone know a song that is loud and catchy that we could sing?”

“How about ‘We will rock you’?” Tayla offers, “I don’t know if anyone of you guys knows this song, it’s pretty old, but our Avós loved it and it’s pretty catchy, with stomping and clapping and so on.”

“I don’t have a better idea,” you tell her, “On New Vulcan, we mostly listened to Vulcan music and that is hardly loud or catchy.”

You can feel Mr. Scott’s eyes on you when you mention New Vulcan, but you don’t have time for that, don’t have the heart to go through all the explaining you’d have to do.

“Can you teach us the song?” You ask Tayla. Her answer is a smile.

You know that when you’ll write the mission report, the sentence “We walked down towards the river, stomping and clapping in rhythm while singing an old Terran song as loud as we could while waving our flashlights,” will never sound as weird as the experience is when you have to go through it yourself.

You have an eye on your comm while you sing, ripping it from your belt the moment the little green light tells you that you have a signal.

It’s hard to hear what the people from the Enterprise are trying to tell you, but you’re pretty sure that they have understood your request to beam the team back, especially when the Pimentel twins fade into soft golden light.

T’Leer and Parks are next. The light on your comm flickers and you look up to Mr. Scott who’s stopped singing.

You’re just two people encased in the soft light of glow sticks and flashlights, staring at each other in the darkness.

“I’m very sorry I did not tell you everything, Mr. Scott,” you say, flicking open your comm without looking down at it, not able to break the eye contact with him, “It just didn’t come up in our first conversation and you seemed to have this picture of me in your mind and I didn’t know how to change that.”

“Would ye jus’ call me Scotty?” He asks, exhaustion in his voice. He has his own Comm in hand, pressing the reset button again and again and again, “I jus’ donnae know what to think of ye anymore! I gave ye up to three lessons a week in a subject ye probably have no interest in! Ye let me believe that ye’re a newbie when ye’re on the same skill level as I am, jus’ in another subject and ye… ye never call me by the name I’ve asked ye too, several times! Why do ye never call me Scotty?!” His voice gets louder with every word until he’s yelling.

“Because I can’t!” You yell back, feeling so irrationally and illogically angry at him, “Because I like you even though I shouldn’t and calling you Scotty would just… I can’t be so close to you that I call you a nickname when I’m not really close to you.”

He stares at you with wide eyes.

Maybe you should feel bad about blurting it out that way, about opening your heart to him when it won’t really mean a thing in the end, but it’s freeing and, you think, if you’ve already lost the fight, you can just go down with everything you have as well.

“And I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I was smarter than you thought I was or that I didn’t want to actually become an Engineer. I just got so nervous around you and it seemed to be the only way I could spend time with you without making an utter fool of myself.”

You fall silent and he looks like he’s far from saying anything.

You press the reset button on your comm and look at him.

“Tell me if you would have had a better idea if you would have been in my shoes.”

The light on your Comm flickers back to life. 

“Enterprise? Lieutenants Y/N and Scott to beam up!”

There’s a cracking sound in the darkness around you. Before you can react to it, golden light surrounds you and the darkness of Sinar fades to the warm yellow light of the transporter platform.

“Y/N!” Your brother’s jumping onto the platform before you can react, pulling you into a hug, “We lost your signal! I was so worried!”

You can see Mr. Scott over his shoulder, can see that glance he throws back at you before he turns around and leaves without looking back again.

At least the mission had been a success.

-


	12. Chapter 12

“Lieutenant Y/N!” Lieutenant Parks slips out of the group of security officers leaving mess hall to greet you when you enter. She slaps you on the shoulder softly, her own laid-back version of a hug. “I met Haylee this morning. Tayla told her that she’s allowed to work on the samples.”

“Oh yes, and she’s doing great. T’Leer had to keep an eye on her in med-bay to make sure she’s not back to work before her arm’s completely healed but the progress she made in one day is astonishing. You’re fine as well, I assume?”

Parks laughs. “Still a bit rattled from the crash, but Haylee has offered to teach me a bit of piloting to get over it. I’m sleeping a lot better since I understand what she did and why it worked out.”

“That’s good to hear. I don’t want to keep you from your work, but after our success, Spock has asked me to plan the next mission, with the outcome of an intact shuttle, preferably. So far I only know that we will have to bring supplies down to a colony and the Captain wants to go with us. I could use a security officer I can trust.”

Parks is unable to hide the proud smile and bids you goodbye with another clap on your back.

You get yourself lunch, walking over the back of mess hall where the tables have emptied again. The new samples keep you at work longer, but you don’t mind the distraction.

It has been four days now since you’ve come back and so far you haven’t seen or heard anything from Mr. Scott.

Figures, you think, and bite into the sandwich you’ve replicated, chewing carefully.

Yes, it hurts. But as your brother had assured you, heartbreak won’t kill you if you don’t let it.

Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t like to have your brother’s company now, or that of any other friend.

“Is that seat taken?”

You shake your head before looking up and freeze when you do so.

Mr. Scott smiles down at you gingerly, waiting for you to take back the offer.

You sigh and wave your hand and he sits down across from you, putting his tablet down in front of him.

You look down at the content of his plate and wish you could smile as easily as you would have a week ago. The two of you have ordered the same things. The Sandwich of the day and a cup of strong black tea.

“I’ve heard ye’ve made some interestin’ discoveries about anaerobic bacteria this month, is that right?”

You put down your sandwich, looking at him for a long moment, before speaking.

“Why are you doing this?”

He looks down at his still untouched sandwich before looking at you again, as if he had to break eye contact to gather his courage.

“Because I’m a stubborn old man who has no idea how to properly flirt with tha’ new science officer who is too smart and too cute to be interested in him.”

“What?” You suddenly find it very difficult to breathe, yet speak.

“Ye asked me what I would have done if I would have been in yer position. It took me one day to find the answer, one more to be able to confess my wrongdoings to my friends and two more to gather the courage to try and set this thing between us right. To ask for a second chance.”

“And what’s the answer?”

There’s a smile on his lips, a small, hesitant one, but it’s there.

“I have done exactly the same. I have seen all those details hinting towards a truth I did not want to see because the truth I’ve managed to make myself believe meant that I could see ye every week and talk to ye about something I know everything about. That wasnae really fair to ye, I guess because I could stay in my comfort zone while pulling ye out of yers.”

“And what are you planning to do now?” You ask, breathless and knowing you will have to go over his words a few more times for the bubbles in your stomach to calm down.

“Well…” he looks down at his plate one more time, “I thought it’s time that I got out of my comfort zone and let ye explore yers. Ask ye… well, ask ye if you’d like to call me Montgomery…” His voice breaks when he says his name and he has to say it again, cracking a smile at himself.

“And if ye want, I’d like to take ye out on a date. I can offer ye the observation deck or the cozy inside of a Jeffries tube.”

“I liked our study dates,” you tell him, pausing before adding his name, “Montgomery.”

“Ye did?”

“You’re a good teacher.”

“I heard ye’re one as well.”

“Are you asking me to teach you Science?”

“Should I?” He smiles, you smile. Who would have thought it could be so easy…

-Weeks later -

“There’s something I have to ask you,” you mumble before moving your hands over the desk, zooming in a particular set of bacteria, “Do I know the friends you talked to about, well, us?”

He looks up from the PADD you’ve given him to jot down everything.

“Well, I’m sure ye know Kirk and I did see ye talking to McCoy.”

“You’ve talked to the Captain… about us?”

He looks surprised.

“Well, I guess he’s more my friend that he’s my Captain. Besides, he said he had told ye to tell me everything, so… ye talked to him about us too, right?”

“I didn’t… I meant… He…”

Montgomery gives you one of that smiles that tells you he’s trying very hard not to laugh at you.

“On the other hand, I have to ask ye if you’ve told your boss that me meeting you here has a whole different meaning now.”

“If you think I told Commander Spock that you’re using these lessons as an excuse to kiss me, you’re wrong.”

“But you told him we’re in a relationship?”

“I told him that I did not find you irritating anymore. Which was a mistake, I think.”

“Hey!” He lunges forward, dropping the PADD on the desk and catching you easily, despite your efforts to get away.

He kisses you, sloppily at first, because he’s teasing you, but it grows softer as soon as he realizes you’re not planning to go anywhere.

You move your arms, sling one around his shoulders to pull him towards you, pressing yourself into him to enjoy his warmth and closure, when the door swishes open with that familiar sound.

“Yuk, you’re disgusting!”

You pull back to glare at your brother, Montgomery’s head leaning against your shoulder. His own shoulders are shaking, telling you that he’s not ashamed, but trying to hide his laughter.

“You know, you should really learn what the word privacy means.”

He grins. “And I’ve just come to tell you that Spock is looking for you. I figured you didn’t want him to find you making out with the Chief Engineer, but hey, I’ll just go back to work and mind my business, you know.”

“Thank you,” you grumble, slipping out of Montgomery’s embrace who’s calmed down enough to look back at your brother.

“You know, you’re my boss and all,” he says and you turn around to look at him, still standing in the doorway, hands now put on his hips as he tries to look more intimidating, “But you should know that I’m watching you. In case you hurt her and all.”

“Oh Gosh, just leave,” you tell him, “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

He sticks his tongue out at you before turning and leaving and you sigh when Montgomery leans forward, slinging an arm around you and pulling you close.

“You know, sometimes I’m wondering if he really is the older twin.” He mumbles into your hair and kisses your temple.

“He’s not the only one who does not act his age.”


End file.
